


Please and Thank You

by RedGriffin



Category: Original Work
Genre: Age Difference, Age Play, Anal Sex, Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, M/M, Older Man/Younger Man, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 11:01:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/978046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedGriffin/pseuds/RedGriffin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bryan Hartenstein, one of the few openly gay metal musicians in the business, has been single for the last six years. So what's one little fling with some blue-eyed boy he meets after a show one night?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please and Thank You

**Author's Note:**

> Just a bit of PWP, really. Hammer of the Gods is a fictional magazine, named after the Led Zeppelin biopic. Wasp Nest are a fictional (metal) band, named because I glanced around the room and the first thing I saw was my copy of 'The Shining' lying on my desk. Enjoy!

_Last week, Bryan Hartenstein turned forty, and his birthday party was well-attended. His Wasp Nest bandmates (guitarists Jimmy Sewell and Andrew Whitewell, bassist Tom Clark and drummer Colin Laukkanen) were all present, in addition to numerous members of the music industry—and even, it’s rumoured, one or two Hollywood big-shots. When asked if those rumours are true, he smiles and winks at me._

_“That’s for me to know and you to guess,” he replies. It’s a pleasantly balmy afternoon in late September, and the two of us are reclining on the patio in the spacious back garden of his house in LA. I ask him about the band’s beginnings. Another smile as he sits back further in his chair._

_“You know,” he says, “when the band first started twenty-two years ago, if you’d told me that one day I was gonna be living in a mansion in Los Angeles, I’d probably have laughed at you and called you an asshole. I believed in myself, and I believed in the band, but did I ever think we’d be_ this _successful? Hell, no! I was just some smartass little punk in a Slayer t-shirt with long hair and a guitar. So were the other guys. But sometimes I just stop and look around, and I think to myself, ‘Christ, we really made it’.”_

_I ask him what he means by ‘made it’._

_“Made it big. You know? Got out there. And I know that nobody’s gonna believe me on this one, but it’s not all about the money. Sure, money’s definitely a part of it, and anyone who says otherwise is a shameless goddamn liar, but it’s not the whole equation, you know? The music’s important, too. We’ve had our ups and downs, sure. We almost broke up a few times. It’s kinda like being married, I guess.”_

_While we’re on the subject of marriage, I say, what’s your current relationship status? Another wry smile._

_“I knew you’d ask that. I’m still single. Things just didn’t work out with Zach [Schneider, Hartenstein’s ex-boyfriend], and we split up about six years ago now. That wasn’t long before I came out, of course.”_

_In January 2007, Hartenstein announced via a post on the band’s official website that he is gay. While the majority of fans were supportive, there were others whose attitudes left something to be desired._

_“The way I see it,” Hartenstein muses, scratching at his short beard, “the metal community is a place for outsiders, the people who mainstream society don’t want to think about. People like me, we’re part of that group. Even disregarding that, a lot of metal imagery—the leather and all that—it comes from the gay S &M scene in the 70s via Rob Halford, the lead singer of one of the greatest metal bands of all time, and, like me, a gay man. It was a difficult decision. When I first told my family back in ’98, they were horrified, and my dad even stopped talking to me for a while, which is why I didn’t come out properly for another ten years. Even dad came round eventually, though. The other guys in the band were never anything other than supportive.”_

_With that, talk turns to rumours of the new album…_

(From ‘Hammer of the Gods’, October 2012 issue, interview conducted by Sam Smithson)

 

It had been a good show—a _damn_ good show, as Jimmy kept calling it, and he was right. They hadn’t played like that in ages. Even though he’d turned forty a few months ago, Bryan didn’t feel it. In fact, he almost felt eighteen again; it was a cliché, true, but he didn’t care. Strutting about the stage, microphone stand in his grasp, he’d felt strangely powerful, like he was drawing energy from the crowd’s adoration. Now, though, he was sweaty and ached all over, and he just wanted to get a shower and sleep for a million years.

“You’re not escaping that easily,” Andy had reminded him, grinning. “Photos. Remember?”

It wasn’t that he didn’t like meeting the fans—Bryan loved meeting the fans; they were great—it was just that he was so damn _tired_. Even so, he did his best to smile for the myriad cameras that were thrust in his face. A few of the fans who lined up to get a photo looked considerably younger than the age limit on the venue they had played in (it was supposedly eighteen and over, but fuck it, Bryan had broken plenty of age limits himself in his younger days).

Eventually, when the crowd had dissipated and everyone had gone home, Bryan was able to slip out of a back door and begin making his way towards his car. The cool night air chilled the sweat on his forehead, and he began to feel a little better already.

“Mr Hartenstein?”

He turned around. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust so he could see them properly, but when he did, he saw that it was a young man. Not a bad-looking young man, come to think about it.

Stop it. You’re forty, for god’s sake, his mind chastised him.

“Yeah?”

“Sorry. I couldn’t catch you inside. My name’s Jamie. Jamie O’Casey.”

He held a hand out, and Bryan shook it. Jamie was maybe eighteen or nineteen, with long blond hair that spilled over his shoulders. In the darkness, Bryan couldn’t make out the colour of his eyes, but what did it matter, really?

“Did you want a photo or something? ’Cause it’s kinda dark out here.”

“Actually, I was thinking of something else.”

It took a moment for Bryan to realise what the kid was talking about, but when he did, his jaw actually dropped a few centimetres.

“Jesus!” he muttered. “You’re a bold one, ain’t’cha?”

 Jamie grinned.

“So I’ve been told.”

“Jesus, kid. I don’t know. How old are you?”

“I’m nineteen. I’ve got ID, if you don’t believe me.”

“No. No, it’s fine. But still…Christ. I’m forty, y’know? You sure you wanna be fooling around with some old bastard like me?”

“If you’re worried about what the press will say—”

“I don’t give a shit about the press.”

“OK. So why not?”

Bryan smiled in disbelief, shaking his head.

“Holy shit, kid. You come up to me in a parking lot at one in the morning, ask to sleep with me, and you feel the need to ask me why I’m hesitating?”

Jamie huffed and folded his arms.

“Take it or leave it, old man.”

Bryan stood there for almost a whole minute, weighing it up in his head. Eventually, he caved in.

“Fine,” he sighed. “But I still feel like a dirty old man.”

 

Bryan wanted to go to a hotel, but Jamie had pointed out that going to a hotel carried the risk of being recognised and found out. On the way back to Bryan’s house, Bryan listened to Jamie talking about himself: he was originally from Huntington Beach, and he’d been studying political science at UCLA since the previous year. He wanted to be a teacher eventually, an ambition that surprised Bryan—Jamie did not look like a potential politics teacher. Hell, he didn’t look like a potential teacher of _anything_.

“I assume you won’t be telling your future students about what’s about to happen between you and me,” Bryan remarked. Jamie snorted.

“I’d probably get fired if I so much as hinted at having a sex life. They’re pretty damn strict about these things.”

“Yeah, but in all fairness, if any of my old teachers had started talking about their sex lives, I’d have probably run out the classroom in terror.”

Jamie laughed at that. He really was a pretty young thing—honey-blond hair, big blue eyes, a hint of stubble, clear skin. Bryan couldn’t help feeling like a dirty old man. Granted, Jamie probably wasn’t a virgin, but nonetheless.

When they got back to Bryan’s house, Jamie whistled.

“Nice,” he said. “Very fuckin’ nice indeed.”

“It wasn’t cheap.”

“I’ll bet. It must be twice the size of the house I grew up in.”

“You grew up in a bigger house than me, then.”

As soon as they were in the front door, Jamie was kissing Bryan eagerly, nuzzling at his jawline. Bryan laughed softly.

“Save it for the bedroom, kiddo,” he grinned, and in response, Jamie pouted, somehow managing to make it both adorable and ridiculously sexy at the same time. “C’mon.”

He wrapped a strong arm around Jamie’s slender waist and led him up to the master bedroom. Once the two of them were barefoot, and Bryan was shirtless, Jamie laid down on the bed and let Bryan settle above him.

“You alright?” Bryan asked. Jamie nodded, and the older man leaned in to kiss him softly on the lips. Jamie moaned and opened his mouth, deepening the kiss, letting Bryan slide his tongue in. After a few minutes of tender, tentative kissing and touching, Bryan moved down Jamie’s lithe body to unbuckle his belt. He pulled his jeans and underwear down to his knees, exposing the younger man’s half-hard cock. Above him, Jamie was wrestling his own t-shirt off, and he threw it to one side; it landed on the floor by the bed. Bryan licked at the head of Jamie’s dick gently, drawing a sigh from him. He licked slow, teasing stripes up Jamie’s cock, savouring his moans and whimpers.

“Fuck, yeah,” Jamie groaned. “Fuck, that’s it…fuck, _daddy_ …”

Bryan froze. Whoa. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Time out. _Daddy_? Shit. Fuck. He’d never dealt with this before. He looked up at Jamie, who was propped up against the pillows, head tilted back, pink lips parted in pleasure.

“Jamie? What did you just call me?”

The blond looked down at Bryan and smirked, and OK, yeah, that was pretty sexy.

“Come on, daddy,” he grinned. “What are you waiting for?”

Yeah. OK. He could work with this. He moved back up the bed to kiss Jamie, deep and passionate. The younger man whimpered into the kiss, grinding against Bryan’s thigh. Bryan broke away, smiling darkly.

“Have you been a good boy, Jamie?”

Jamie nodded, wide-eyed and innocent-looking. _Little tease_ , Bryan thought affectionately.

“Yes, daddy,” he replied.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Now, I’m not sure I believe you, Jamie,” Bryan murmured, sitting up so he was straddling Jamie properly. “Weren’t you swearing earlier?”

Jamie put on a mock-guilty expression.

“I didn’t mean it, daddy…”

“Good boys don’t swear, do they, Jamie?”

“No, daddy.”

Bryan shifted so he was sitting on the edge of the bed and patted his lap.

“Come on, baby. Over my legs.”

Jamie tugged his jeans off and then scrambled to obey, laying himself carefully across Bryan’s thighs and bracing himself on the floor with his hands. Bryan stroked the soft skin on his ass with one large, calloused hand, occasionally stopping to squeeze or pinch.

“Daddy?”

“Shh. It’s alright, baby. Daddy’s here.” Bryan reassured the younger man, stroking his hair with his other hand. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. So gorgeous.”

Bryan waited another moment, and then brought his right hand down, hard, on Jamie’s ass. Jamie cried out and bucked in response.

“Daddy!” he whined.

“Shush now, baby boy. It’ll all be over soon enough.”

By the time Bryan had finished the first ten, Jamie was fully hard, his cock hot and heavy against Bryan’s thigh.

“It hurts,” he groaned. “Daddy, it hurts so bad…”

“I know, honey. Just lay still. Can you do that for daddy?”

Jamie nodded. By the time Bryan had reached twenty, there were tears trickling down his face, and the older man was concerned that he couldn’t take much more. He settled for another ten, by the end of which Jamie was wailing and sobbing in pain.

“Daddy, please,” he moaned.

“It’s alright. Daddy’s done now. Come on, up in my lap.”

Jamie sat up and wrapped his arms around Bryan’s neck. He buried his face in Bryan’s shoulder, sniffling. Bryan rubbed his back.

“I’m sorry I was bad, daddy,” Jamie whimpered. “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know you didn’t, sweetie. It’s alright.”

“Daddy, it hurts…”

“It’s gonna be sore for a little while, but it’ll get better soon,” Bryan soothed, kissing Jamie on the cheek tenderly. “Now, are you gonna be a good boy from now on?”

“Yes, daddy. I promise.”

“Good boy. Lie back for me, baby.”

Jamie lay on his back on the bed, wincing a little. Bryan went over to the dresser and rummaged through the top drawer. Eventually, his hand closed around a bottle and he pulled it out, padding back over to the bed. He leaned down and pecked Jamie on the lips, pressing the bottle of lube into his hand.

“Get yourself ready for me, darling.”

Jamie coated his index and middle fingers with the gel, parted his legs and pressed one inside of himself, groaning at the intrusion. Bryan moved back and kneeled at the edge of the bed to watch, biting back a moan at the sight before him: Jamie, stark naked, his long hair tumbling down across his shoulders, fingering himself and moaning like a whore while he did so. Jamie cried out as he added a second finger, hips arching off the mattress, stretching and scissoring himself.

“Daddy,” he whined, “daddy, please, I want you…”

“If you’re ready, baby.”

“I am, please, daddy, oh god…”

Bryan removed his jeans and boxers, tossing them off to one side, and shifted forward on his knees, pulling Jamie’s legs up to rest on his shoulders. He jacked himself a few times, slicking himself up with the lube, and then pressed the head of his cock against Jamie’s hole.

“You sure you’re ready?”

“Daddy, please…!”

“Alright, baby, alright.”

Slowly, ever-so-gently, Bryan pushed inside, kissing Jamie tenderly as he did so. Once he was fully sheathed, he stopped to let Jamie adjust, caressing away the tension in the younger man’s muscles with tender, loving touches and kisses, coming his big, strong fingers through Jamie’s long, silky-soft hair. Again, taking great care not to hurt or surprise the blond, Bryan pulled out and thrust back in gently. He gradually sped up until Jamie suddenly cried out and bucked his hips.

“There, daddy! Right there!”

“Was that good, honey?” Bryan smiled, thrusting back in and drawing another yelp from Jamie. He grabbed the younger man’s cock and began stroking in time with his thrusts.

“Daddy, god…”

“You gonna come for daddy, baby boy?” Bryan cooed. “You gonna make daddy feel good?”

With a final cry of ‘daddy’, Jamie arched his hips and came, and within seconds Bryan was following him. The singer pulled out and they collapsed together on the bed, panting, exhausted and sticky. Jamie rolled over and curled up, winding his arms around Bryan’s neck.

“Thank you, daddy,” he whispered. Bryan smiled and stroked his hair.

“Any time, baby.”

Sleep soon followed.

 

Bryan awoke at eight o’clock—late for him—with a headache and a strange taste in his mouth, which usually only happened when he was hungover. He hadn’t touched a drop the night before, though, which must have meant—

He looked down at the young man asleep in his arms, and it all came flooding back. He lay there for a moment, thinking it over, then went downstairs.

He was halfway through making two mugs of coffee (did Jamie drink coffee? Whatever, Bryan could have both if he didn’t) when a pair of slim arms were wrapped around his waist from behind and a soft kiss was pressed to the skin just below his ear.

“Morning,” said a familiar voice. “Sleep well?”

Bryan turned around to kiss Jamie properly, hands planted firmly on the younger man’s hips. They drank their coffee in silence, staring out of the kitchen window. When Bryan had finished, he put his mug down on the table and leaned back in his chair.

“So,” he said, “about last night.”

Jamie screwed his face up.

“Yeah. Sorry about that, man. Don’t know what happened.”

“It’s alright. I didn’t mind. Just wondering where it came from.”

Jamie sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He sat there in thoughtful silence for a while before eventually speaking.

“See, the thing is,” he began, “my dad ran off when I was a little kid. And I mean little. I was barely two. So growing up, I never had that much of a father figure. And I always really wanted someone I could look up to and rely on. I’m not saying I had…incestuous tendencies or anything. It’s just that, well, this time round, the whole thing happened at a really strange time. I don’t know. Does that make any sense?”

“Kind of. I can see where you’re coming from.”

Another pause.

“I’ll call a cab or something,” Jamie said.

“You can stay, if you like.”

“When you say ‘stay’…?”

Bryan shrugged.

“I don’t know. Maybe the press will try and make a big deal out of me dating a nineteen-year-old, but hey, the press can go fuck themselves.”

“You want to go out with me?”

“Only if you feel the same way.”

Jamie grinned and leaned across the table to kiss Bryan on the lips.

“You idiot,” he smiled affectionately, “what do you think?” 

**Author's Note:**

> In the highly unlikely event that you're wondering what the guys are meant to look like, I envisioned Bryan as looking like John Petrucci (Dream Theater) with a shorter beard and Jamie as looking like Mathias 'Vreth' Lillmåns (Finntroll) with blond hair and less stubble.


End file.
